


Late Nights

by Megane



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Drabbles, First Kiss, Forest Meetings, Hesitant First Move, M/M, Quieter Forms of Bonding, Sneaking Out, Unclear Relationships, staying up late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 02:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2293301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lon'qu just wanted to get some time away from his eccentric group of 'heroes'. He went out to go think when he ran into the subject of his most recent thoughts in the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheepskin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepskin/gifts).



> Do you know how long I've been planning this? A few _months_ and it still came out wrong. Thankfully, I have like six more ideas to sit on.

Lon’qu had trouble… socializing, one could say. He wasn’t a social butterfly; he wasn’t necessarily interested in what his warmates did outside of battle. They bothered him often enough—for whatever reason, he wasn’t entirely sure. He humoured them, but most of the time, he was alone. And it was no longer strange to realise that he wasn’t the only one.

While others made excuses or suspiciously took themselves out a situation, Libra just sat to himself, meditating—no, praying. Libra was definitely the sort to _pray_ when he had a moment’s peace. Lon’qu had nothing against that, per se, so long as he wasn’t forced into it as well. It just wasn’t in his mind to believe in any higher power. Nor was it his business to try and understand those who ultimately did. Specifically he stopped trying to understand Libra—to an extent. Libra was a war mage and a priest. He was a holy man in a warrior. He felt no shame in who he was—a man of the cloth, the strong arm of righteous, on behalf of humankind. He was… a noble man through and through. Lon’qu had to give Libra his credit.

But Libra was not all frills and good intentions. The cleric himself had stated that once before, and Lon’qu was no one to treat him differently. Not in any judging sense. If he had to admit—if he really had to admit _anything_ —he would say that he was curious about Libra. They had paired up together in the past and been each other’s support, but Lon’qu felt a need to understand him. It was probably dangerous to pursue. But Libra…

He had already, more or less, expressed his desire to talk with Lon’qu more about things—in general. Whatever may have troubled him, whatever was on his mind. The myrmidon found it a comfort, strangely. He looked around at the others, watching them talk and busy themselves before ultimately separating. The myrmidon’s mind was swimming again, doused in too many thoughts. He sighed deeply, clasping his hand against his forehead. He stayed there for a while, pondering nothing, and when Henry said “Hey, watch this.” Lon’qu figured it was his time to leave. He wasn’t much for bonding, or Henry’s idea of show-and-tell. The myrmidon needed a walk, a moment to himself, away from the chatter and plumes of magic.

            Lissa lifted her head. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Lon’qu paused, having grown used to her worrying as she had of his wandering. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge her, but he faced forward, letting out a huff.

            “I’ve my sword.”

            The young princess smiled. “As you should!”

Lissa was another _interesting_ sort, wasn’t she. She had a fire of her own, and while she was one for peace as well, claimed she hated the fighting— He stopped himself, thinking that way got him into a verbal bind once before with the older blond. He didn’t dare try again with the princess.

 

He swung through the wild brush in the woods, slashing at the vegetation that had grown immensely wild and tangled. He ducked and pushed branches out of the way, avoided cobwebs to the best of his abilities, and finally stood tall once in a clearing. It felt good to stand tall, but Gods… He rolled shoulder, trying to relieve some of the tension. He pulled away and grunted loudly. A branch snagged his hair, as though upset at his intrusion. He reached up a hand to pull the offending branch away. There was a laugh.

            “The same thing happened to me.” The voice was soft and assuring. “Try not to struggle, and I’ll free you.”

            “Libra…”

The blond appeared like an illusion and moved with immaculate grace. There was something about Libra that just _flowed_ , always flowing and light and delicate somehow. It was hard to explain but ‘delicate’ was the only word that currently fit. Lon’qu wasn’t a master with words, but he knew that the ones he selected were… lacking. He knew the importance of having some breathing room, but he never would have figured that Libra would travel all the way out here just for some silence. Though it struck him as odd, he resisted the urge to ask. The war monk untangled the branch from the choppy locks. He ran his fingers through a couple of times, making sure he wasn’t missing anything. Lon’qu might have been slightly suspicious if Libra didn’t pull his hands away, producing smaller twigs or sometimes spider webs. The myrmidon suddenly felt unclean.

Once finished, Libra took a respective couple of steps away and gave Lon’qu some breathing room.

            “Out for some peace and quiet?” Libra questioned, feeling he already knew the answer.

            “I felt as though this was a remote enough…”

            Libra nodded. “As did I.”

As the war monk turned away, Lon’qu couldn’t help but ask.

            “Why… are you out here?”

            “The same as you, more or less.”

Libra lifted his head up, staring at the open space between the trees. The moon was somewhere close, but not close enough to illuminate their spot much more. Lon’qu watched silently.

            “Praying…?” Lon’qu ventured to ask.

            “For a while, but I was mostly just thinking. This time, just thinking.”

Lon’qu felt there was depth in the repetition. He watched the pale hand lift and fingers quirked, inviting him to follow along. They moved to sit under a tree with the clearest view to the stars. It was a lovely sight; it wasn’t shrouded by many leaves, and the moon’s light gave it just the right ambience. Lon’qu reached up a hand, rubbing his thumb against his bottom lip. The myrmidon hummed.

Libra gave his companion a sidelong glance but made no comment. They stared in silence for a while. And while Lon’qu appreciated it, he wasn’t really sure what he was going to say. He had that urge where he should say _something_. The silence between the two of them was too thick, too… intimate. Maybe it was because of the close space they shared together. It was nice though, if not a bit strange because of how antsy it made him.

            “Is something on your mind?” the war monk asked, eyes closing and head leaning slightly towards Lon’qu.

            “… Perhaps.”

            “You know you can always speak to me—is that how you phrased it?”

            Lon’qu huffed out a laugh. “Close enough; I can’t remember the exact wording myself, but…” He drew up a leg, letting his forearm rest on the knee. He stared out, straight ahead. “You plagued my mind today.”

            “Oh?”

            “I’m interested—I think a bit too much—about the things you say every now and again when we’re in battle. The way you take charge or the way you give comfort, there’s something about your methods that’s just so…” Lon’qu leaned his head back, brows furrowing as he found the words. “It’s surprising, I could say.”

            “Surprising…”

            “I just know so little about you, and my expectations, based on our conversations, is never enough to evaluate properly.”

            Libra laughed. It was soft, light, but brief. Lon’qu enjoyed it very much… “I never thought to give myself away any. Perhaps I’m just so used to it. I never found myself of much interest, but I’m very practiced in putting thoughts of myself aside.”

            Lon’qu wasn’t remotely surprised by the answer. “Still. I don’t mean to be strange. I just…”

            “It’s fine. I’ve my own interest about you as well.”

            “… Really?”

            “You and Tharja, were I to admit my whole thoughts, but I find her and her mysticism on some other plane entirely.”

            “Much like Henry,” the two muttered in unison.

They looked to each other and shared a small smile. They were on the same page. Interesting. Lon’qu stretched out, reclining on his back as he stared up at the sky. It was getting brighter, he thought. The moon must have been shifting towards them. Libra sat perched against the tree, gazing skyward as well. Lon’qu tilted his gaze slightly, watching the blond for a few seconds.

And the conversation began to unwind naturally. They didn’t talk for long but in steady little bursts. Sometimes the silence would stretch for ten minutes before either one of them had anything to say. And when they finally hit a wall where the silence stretched for thirty minutes, Lon’qu nestled his head further in his hands, quite relaxed with his place on the forest floor. A thought formed out into the open, spilling from Lon’qu’s mouth with nonchalant ease. Libra straightened up slightly, looking own to his companion, wondering if this was a game of sorts. But Lon’qu laid there at complete ease.

The war monk leaned over, pushing the short locks out of the way. Lon’qu opened his eyes, muttering “hey” when the blond got closer.

            “Just checking…” Libra stated, voice low as he let the strands fall back in their place.

            Lon’qu lifted both brows just the slightest bit. “On…?”

            “On you—to see if there was a knot on your head. I can see that there isn’t.” He shook his head, sitting up a bit. “Surely, though, I can’t be seeing right. Come, sit in the moonlight where I can see you better.”

            Lon’qu shook his head but sat up anyway. “I’m _fine_ ,” he asserted, “just…”

The words trickled away as Lon’qu stared at Libra. The monk was pale, but the atmosphere of the night just made him seem so much more… ethereal. Yes, _that_ was a proper term for it. Ethereal. Lon’qu’s brows knitted together again, and he frowned deeply. He looked away, thinking himself a fool now. This took Libra’s interest.

            “Is there trouble, Lon’qu?”

            “Libra, I… I’m going to trouble you, but can I…” The myrmidon was never good with formalities, especially – especially – when it came to matters of his interest. He reached up a hand and cupped the back of Libra’s neck. Soft, slightly frizzy (hm) hair graced the back of his fingers. He locked eyes with the war monk. “ _May I_ make a request?”

            “Depends on what it is,” Libra answered.

The usual, detached diplomacy in his voice faded just a bit. Lon’qu, by now, could tell. They’ve held many conversations under different circumstances. Though they were all brief, Libra just had a _style_ to everything he did. And that style, at this moment, had changed.

            “This.”

It was all he could muster. It wasn’t cool; it wasn’t flattering. Hell, it was hardly even an answer, but it was all the war monk got. Lon’qu quirked his fingers, pressing against the side of Libra’s neck. He coaxed the blond forward and feared (but also expected) resistance. When it didn’t happen, when Libra simply flowed towards him in only that way _he_ could, Lon’qu just seized the chance.

Libra’s lips were cold. Was it really that chilly out here? Lon'qu hadn’t noticed himself, but it must have been far too early in the morning for either of them to be so far off from camp. He pushed the thought away. They would return soon, but his mission currently was to warm the war monk up.

In the chaste of ways possible, he assumed, would be most appropriate for now.

They broke away, and Libra was breathing just a _bit_ heavier than usual. Lon’qu decided to be nice and not bring too much attention to it. But he couldn’t help the upward quirks of his lips. That was beyond him. Libra hesitated a moment, not wanting to pull away. He opened his eyes slightly, looking from Lon’qu’s lips to his eyes. There was a moment of confusion that hit him, but he couldn’t pinpoint why or where it came from.

He reached up a hand, curling it in the brunet’s sleeve. He sighed against Lon’qu’s lips, resisting the urge to follow up a thought or a ‘request’ that he himself had. He was a man of the cloth still. He had to… repurpose this energy he felt. This lovely, confusing dazzle of energy.

            “Lon’qu…” He whispered, their lips so close to touching. It was too much temptation, but he resisted. “We must head back.”

            “Agreed.”

Libra was thankful for his companion.

It was with great irresolution that the two finally split apart. Libra let his fingers trail down the cloth to the fuzzy outline of Lon’qu’s sleeve. The myrmidon stood first; Libra followed, taking the extended hand and standing. They dusted themselves off, and Libra wandered for a moment, navigating around a tree before he reemerged with his staff. Lon’qu was surprised. For some reason, he thought Libra flat out didn’t have his weapon with him.

They maneuvered through the forest, exiting out with remarkably less branches and spider webs attached to their person. They walked abreast back towards the camp. When the twisting smoke became visible, Libra spoke.

            “I never let anyone touch me.”

Lon’qu paused. Libra continued forward, a serene smile almost plastered to his face.

            “I _never_ let anyone touch me. I recoil even at the thought.”

            Lon’qu opened his mouth, daring to ask if he was the exception, but he was no fool. He tried a different route. “So why then would you let me?”

            “I’ve no idea.” Libra turned his head slightly. Lon’qu could trace the moderate upward tilt to Libra’s nose. The long lashes lowered and lifted steadily. “I never planned on making you an exception. Or anyone here—anyone at all, really.”

            Lon’qu took a couple of steps closer. “Again, I ask why.”

            Libra stood in silence, turning his head to face towards the camp. He moved his hands behind his back, both hands clasping his weapon. “I don’t know.”

The answer was soft. It was filled with nothing—no traceable emotion that Lon’qu could find. He could only imagine how unreadable Libra’s face was. He was spared his own imagination when Libra turned towards him, face a little more neutral, a little more – what Libra probably deemed – approachable. The blond nodded his head.

            “I’m sorry; let’s continue.”

            “Yes.”

They walked side by side but with a little more spacing this time. Libra gave a sidelong glance, noticing the distance, but he didn’t take any offense to it. Instead, he found it relieving that Lon’qu was listening.

They headed back to the barracks; the outside fire was dwindling down. None of the primary magic users were outside to lift the flames again. Libra would find Tharja to stoke it, if she wasn't already sleeping. Lon’qu stepped closer.

            “Again, I apologize,” came the gruff, humbled voice.

            Libra regarded him and then smiled, letting out a soft sigh. “It’s okay.” It really was. He wanted to say that he wanted it; it would be the truth in most regards, but it still felt empty. “We’ll talk about it later.”

            _I hope to learn more of you_ , Lon’qu thought, but he kept it all inside. He let Libra go without a word.

He headed to his own room, rubbing his face with both hands. He suddenly felt exhausted. When he hit his cot, he grunted softly and threw an arm over his eyes. He pressed down hard enough that he could see little spots behind his eyes. They reminded him of the stars, the pleasant, almost secretive view he shared with Libra. He reached up his free hand, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip.

He would never forget that chill. It meant so much more to him than the kiss itself. He wouldn’t sully it with some foolish label he felt they shared, but… It was significant. He rolled towards the wall, letting his arm flop away and just stared blankly for a few moments.

Yes, he would find out more about Libra and hoped that they both would achieve some mutual warmth.

It was a foolish thought in the end. He had to go and ruin it. He chuckled tiredly at himself, closing his eyes. It was such a stupid thing, but it felt like a promise as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
